


I Like Pretty Things

by ChillyHollow



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Budding Love, Comrades, Friendship/Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23631457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillyHollow/pseuds/ChillyHollow
Summary: Robin uses her lunch hour to window shop at Vashti
Relationships: Charlotte Campbell Ross/Cormoran Strike, Matthew Cunliffe/Robin Ellacott, Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	1. I Like Pretty Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Everyone Struggling This Week](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Everyone+Struggling+This+Week).



Robin walked slowly down the sidewalk, looking in the display windows, enjoying the sunshine and the fact that she was outside in the fresh air instead of trapped at a desk.This was the best part of her day, her lunch hour stroll outside the busy office where she had been temping for the last few weeks.She usually ate the lunch she’d made in her tiny flat at her desk, then took a walk during the bulk of the sixty minutes she was allowed for a break.

Today she was headed to Vashti, the boutique she’d heard so much about in the fashion magazines.It wasn’t that far, only a couple of blocks, but she had stopped for a coffee first.She usually didn’t splurge on coffees but today was pay day and she deserved a little treat for once.It was tough to always deny herself a tiny pleasure so she could put a few more pounds in the savings she was trying to build up to tide her over if the temp jobs dried up before she found a permanent position. So on payday she allowed herself a little treat.Luckily, window shopping was free.

Vashti had large display windows, so Robin took her time studying the contents of each.The first was all about leisure wear:tiny bathing suits in bright prints, beaded beach bags, silk scarves of every color in the rainbow, and cover ups that cost more than all of Robin’s closet lumped together.They were displayed on beach chairs and on mannikins posed on beach towels. The second window was all suits and purses and briefcases, so this was the office wear window.Robin couldn’t imagine carrying a crocodile cross body bag or a tote bag that probably cost more than she paid for three month’s rent to work.The last window was party dresses, both long and short, with amazing jewelry paired with each outfit.She was drawn to a full length green dress that draped beautifully.She supposed it was silk or silk jersey.It was displayed with a gold coin necklace and she’d love to try it on, but she didn’t have the nerve to march into such an expensive place.Maybe one day….

She was turning away from the last window when a very beautiful woman got out of a car pulled up in front of Vashti.She had black hair, pale skin and very green eyes and she was wearing what Robin could tell was an expensive linen dress in peach and cream.She walked with the arrogance Robin associated with the very rich and entitled.She climbed the stairs leading into Vashti, ignored the doorman who opened the entrance door for her, and vanished inside.Robin could see her moving around inside the store, followed by two or three sales associate acolytes.Robin turned away, but she looked back over her shoulder toward the beautiful green dress, wanting one last glimpse of it. She didn’t see the big man who was walking down the sidewalk toward the shop entrance. 

She bumped square into him and dropped her coffee.“Oh!”The man grabbed her arms to steady her.Robin looked up into a stern face topped with slightly too long hair that curled and hazel eyes deep set above a three day growth of beard.The arms that held her were muscular, tanned and hairy.She knew that because on this nice summery day he’d rolled his sleeves up almost to his elbows.She looked past his arms in dismay down at her spilled coffee.She’d had barely a taste.At least she hadn’t gotten any coffee on herself—or on him. Well, maybe his shoes were splashed a bit with coffee, as were hers.

“Sorry,” he said, following her gaze. 

“No, I wasn’t looking where I was going.I didn’t spill any coffee on you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine.Let me get you another.” 

“No!Please!You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to,” he said and he smiled.The change in his expression was dramatic.Instead of the tall and stern man who she’d nearly run in to, suddenly he was charm and smiles.She wondered which was the real him.He let go of her arms and said, “What was it?”

Robin said, “Tall skinny mocha.”He nodded and ordered her one from the little coffee stall on the sidewalk.He got himself a coffee also and brought them both back to where she was standing, giving her one.“Shall we sit down and drink them?”

Robin thanked him and sat on the empty bench facing Vashti.He sat down next to her, his long legs stretched out in front of them.Robin noticed that one leg seemed a little stiff and she wondered if he had arthritis.She sipped her coffee and looked into the shop window at the amazing green dress.He seemed to follow her gaze.“Are you interested in that dress?”

“Just window shopping.I could never afford something like that but I like pretty things. I go window shopping on my lunch hour and enjoy day dreaming about things like that dress.” 

“It would look good on you.It’s perfect for your hair and skin color,” he said. 

“It probably costs more than I make as a temp in a year,” Robin said.“But it is fun to look and looking costs nothing.”They sipped their coffees unspeaking for a bit.Robin thought it was nice to sit here in the sun next to a man, even one she didn’t know.She got lonely here in London now that she and Matt were no longer an item.This was the longest conversation she’d had with anyone in a month at least if you didn’t count people telling her what to do at the various temp jobs she’d had in that time.She sneaked a look at the stranger.“Hi, I’m Robin.”She stuck out her hand and he took it in one of his big ones and shook it. 

“I’m Cormoran.You are right, looking doesn’t cost anything.I like pretty things, too.”The way he looked at her she thought it was meant as a compliment and she blushed. 

“There you are!”The gorgeous woman Robin had seen entering Vashti earlier had come out, a shopping bag in one elegant hand, and was standing in front of them, looking at Cormoran.The woman’s gaze flickered to Robin and away again, almost as if she hadn’t seen her or as if Robin was negligible, returning her beautiful green eyes to the man sitting next to Robin.

“Ready?” he said as he rose, then he turned a bit to look down at Robin and smile.“Bye, Robin.”A car pulled up in front of Vashti and Cormoran opened the back door for his beautiful companion who slid into it gracefully.He shut the door, looked toward Robin again, nodded to her, then walked around the car to the other side and got in.The car pulled away.Robin noticed it was a Mercedes, one of the new models from Germany.She sat for a few minutes, finishing her coffee and thinking about the tall man, then she got rid of her empty cup and headed back to her tedious job


	2. Coffees

Robin’s weekend was ordinary.She did laundry, cleaned her dark little flat, bought enough groceries to last her until the next payday, ironed, changed the sheets on her bed, took a nice hot soak in a tub, then fell asleep watching a Netflix series that she had little interest in.Sunday the weather was still nice so she visited the special exhibit from Scotland Yard’s Crime Museum on display at the Museum of London.She washed, then dried her hair Sunday evening and packed her lunch for tomorrow so she could dress and be out of the flat to face rush hour in plenty of time.It was pouring rain so she skipped her lunchtime walk in favor of reading a book in the break room.She didn’t know a tall man was standing in front of Vashti under a big umbrella, waiting and hoping, two coffees in a cardboard carrier in his free hand.

Tuesday the weather was nicer.Robin was happy to stretch her legs after eating lunch.She wandered down the sidewalk, dodging other people and the leftover puddles from Monday’s downpour.She wondered if the Vashti displays had changed.The benches were wet but she thought she’d walk to Vashti and look to see the displays, then cross the street and check out the jewelry shop windows there before heading back past the fancy milliner’s shop and then on to her job.She didn’t ever plan to wear a feathered hat but they were fun to look at. 

As she got closer she saw a tall figure standing by the wet bench, looking down the street in her direction.She was astounded and very pleased to see it was Cormoran.He had a paper coffee cup in each hand.When she got close enough, he handed one to her, as naturally as if they did this every day.“Hi, Cormoran!I didn’t expect to see you here.You brought coffee?Thank you.”

“I thought I’d get a cup in case you came by, Robin.The weather’s nicer than yesterday, that’s for sure.”He looked at the wet bench.“We can’t sit down but would you like to stroll along the street?” 

“That would be nice.”Robin looked up at the Vashti window.Her green dress was still there.Once again he followed her gaze.“You should try it on.”

“I don’t have the nerve,” Robin admitted.“Places like that are way out of my price range anyway.”Sipping at the coffees, they walked together down the sidewalk, the people coming the other way pressing them close together.Robin was nearly brushing Cormoran’s shoulder with her own as she tried to keep away from the press of people.Cormoran suggested they stop under an awning over a shop entrance, away from the crowd, to finish sipping coffee so they could talk.The antique store looked closed and it seemed a good idea, so Robin stood next to him, drinking her coffee and wondering what to say to this large man with a girlfriend who was beyond stunning. 

Cormoran was looking at the heavy dark furniture in the window, frowning.“Ugly stuff.I am not a fan of Craftsman furniture.”Robin looked at the square table and a blocky chair that looked both architectural and uncomfortable.“Some of the chairs are more comfortable than they look.My dad has a recliner in that style.It’s really nice to sit in, actually.We kids all fight over who takes a nap in it when he’s out on the farm.His isn’t an antique, though.My mother got it for him about five years ago at a furniture place in Harrogate.”

That led to Cormoran’s asking her where she lived and how many brothers and sisters she had. Robin told him about her three brothers and life in a rural town in north Yorkshire, then asked about his family.He told her he had a half sister and grew up in London and intermittently in Cornwall when his mother went for long stays at her older brother’s place.Robin checked her watch and told Cormoran she needed to head back towards her job. He offered to walk with her so they could talk and finish their coffees. 

It was pleasant to walk and talk with someone, Robin though.She appreciated the coffee and the company even more.She found herself telling Cormoran about her trip to the Museum of London and the special crime exhibit she had visited.“It was really interesting.I wish the Crime Museum in Scotland Yard was open to the public.There are a lot of things I’d like to see there.”

“Are you interested in historical murders?” he asked.

“Well, sort of, “ Robin admitted.“I’d like to be involved with the police somehow but I don’t have my psychology degree—I dropped out of uni—and they aren’t hiring right now.So I do temp jobs while I’m looking for a permanent clerical position.”They were close to the insurance agency where Robin was working for two more weeks now so she had to tell Cormoran goodbye.“I’ve got to get back to work.Can I meet you for coffee at lunch tomorrow?I’m buying.”

“Yes.Can I meet you here outside your office and we can take a walk and get coffees and talk?”

“That would be nice,” Robin said, suddenly shy.“I usually am free for a walk by 12:10 p.m.”

“It’s a date.See you tomorrow.” he told her, giving her a cheerful smile.Robin had a spring in her step when she stepped back into the office.She hadn’t noticed the Mercedes following them as they strolled back toward her job.Cormoran knew it was there, of course.He opened the front passenger door and looked at the short bearded and tattooed man behind the wheel who asked, “What are you playing at, Bunsen?”There was no answer.“Well, get in.We need to get back to work.”


	3. Breakups

The next day was rainy again, but Robin didn’t care.The morning crawled past, with Robin looking at the clock and her phone constantly.Finally it was noon.She grabbed her purse and sandwich and headed to the break room to eat, then took her umbrella and headed out the front door to a rainy day.Just down the block was Cormoran, standing under a big umbrella, keeping an eye on the insurance agency door.Robin smiled at him and headed across the street to join him.“Hi.Hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“No, I just got here.You are right on time.Which way to a coffee shop?”

Robin told him there was a little shop with coffees and sandwiches just around the corner, so they headed that way, Robin standing close to him under his big umbrella.Crowds parted easily for the big man, and Robin appreciated that.It was hard to walk on a sidewalk with your umbrella as a single person.A couple were harder to shove and bump into.No one would be able to overlook Cormoran with his height and broad shoulders. 

He opened the door for her to the little shop, closing his umbrella and placing in the stand by the door while she ordered their coffees at the counter and paid.He picked a table for two by the window and she joined him there with their drinks.Sitting down, she realized that there wasn’t much room for his long legs under the table.He didn’t seem to mind their legs touching, though, and to be frank, she didn’t mind either.It was nice to sit there with hot coffee, one of his thighs touching her leg, watching the people wander by, and talking about Robin’s current job which Cormoran had asked her about.

“I answer the phone, open the mail, fill out spreadsheets, make copies.It’s boring but the people are pleasant.At least no one is constantly making passes at me.”Cormoran raised his eyebrows.

“It happens.I have gotten good at deflecting unwanted attention.How is your week going, Cormoran?” she asked, mostly to take that frown off his face.  
  
“Well, coffee with you has been the highlight so far.I broke up with my cheating fiancee.”

Robin felt stricken.“The very beautiful woman you were with at Vashti?”He nodded.“If it makes you feel any better, I broke up with my cheating boyfriend two months ago.He was seeing his best friend’s fiancée on the side.When I found out, I moved out.I thought about forgiving him but I knew he’d just cheat again.Who needs that in their life?”Robin stood up. “This needs sugar.”She headed to the counter where she purchased fat pastries.She put a plate of tiny almond croissants and raspberry turnovers on the table between herself and Strike.“The croissants are almond inside and the turnovers are raspberry.The apple ones are better but they were out.” 

“Thanks,” he said, picking up a croissant.Robin picked one for herself and took a bite.“Charlotte and I were together off and on for sixteen years.I miss her but I don’t miss the drama, the scenes and tantrums.” 

“Here’s to a calm life,” Robin said, toasting Cormoran with her coffee.“Matt was always trying to tell me what to do.I like being on my own.It’s sometimes lonely but I can do what I want when I want.”They ate in silence for a bit, then Robin got them refills on their coffee. 

Cormoran looked at her and said, “Can I take you to dinner?You’ve spent a lot more on lunchtime coffee and pastries trying to cheer me up.”

Robin thought about it.She liked Cormoran and he was good company.He wasn’t demanding, either, or pushy.His thigh on hers was because of the cramped area, not because he was trying it on.“That would be lovely.When are you free?”

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through a calendar.“How about Friday night?I’m going to be away on business the rest of this week.Give me your phone number and I’ll text you when and where once I get back and can get a reservation.What part of London are you in?I’ll find a place fairly close to your flat so you don’t have to fight the Friday traffic to get there.”

“Friday night is fine.My place is on the edge of Shoreditch.Where are you going?”

“I have to go to Switzerland.”Robin thought she must have looked startled because he explained, “My father died a couple of months back and he had some business interests there I have to wrap up.”

“I’m sorry about your father,” Robin said. 

“It’s all right.I barely knew him but I’m the oldest son so he left everything in my hands.It’s been a lot of work with his estate.I’ve met more lawyers and accountants in the last week…!”He took another sip of coffee and sighed.“But that’s not your problem.It just means we can’t do lunches any more this week.How long are you going to be at the insurance place?”

Robin told him she had another week after this one.She didn’t know where she would be after that.Usual placements were for a week or two but this time she was standing in for a lady on six week’s maternity leave.“I have an interview for a permanent job at a PR firm next week as well.Wish me luck.”

Cormoran checked his watch.“I think we’d better go or you’ll be late.”Together they headed back to her offices where they parted after Robin wished him a safe journey.

The rest of the week seemed to go very slowly without Cormoran at lunch but Robin walked to Vashti each day, looking at the green dress, then walking back via other routes to vary her routine.She was on her way back from lunch on Thursday when she passed a newsstand where the cover of the new Tatler caught her eye — it showed a black haired beauty with amazing skin and very green eyes in a scarlet suit, posing with a huge diamond engagement ring prominently displayed on her left hand.“The New Countess of Croy?” blazed the headline.In smaller print, it read “The Honorable Charlotte Campbell is off the market at last.”Robin bought the issue and took it back to the office with her.

After supper at home she went through the article line by line.She learned that Charlotte Campbell was the darling of the society party set, had a titled father and a former debutante mother, and had just become engaged to her university sweetheart, Jago Ross, the Count of Croy.Their wedding was planned for Paris next November “when the Ritz is at its best.”There was no mention of a prior engagement, particularly not one that had been broken this week.Robin knew that magazine articles were planned well in advance.Cormoran had been right to think this lady was cheating on him. 

Of course he probably didn’t read Tatler, but still he’d hear about it eventually, especially if Charlotte Campbell was wearing that huge rock around town.They must have mutual friends.She knew if Matt had cheated on her with someone local in Masham all her friends would rush to tell her about it.The only reason he’d kept it quiet so long was that he was cheating in London with someone not from Masham.

She debated whether to mention this to him Friday at supper.Of course she hadn’t heard from him yet, so it might not be on.She’d have to wait and see.She laid the magazine down on her coffee table and made herself a cup of tea and took it to bed. 

Friday morning she still hadn’t heard from Cormoran, so she was starting to think he’d been delayed.She tried to put their dinner date out of her mind.At lunchtime she walked down to Vashti again.While she was looking at the green dress, her phone beeped with a text message.It was from Cormoran.“Delayed.Not coming back until tomorrow-Saturday.Dinner tomorrow night?”

Robin texted him back.“Saturday fine.Come home safe.”

Saturday morning she cleaned her flat, did her usual grocery run, changed the sheets on her bed and then took a shower and washed her hair.Cormoran texted her that he was back and would like to meet at 7 p.m. at a steakhouse in Shoreditch that was about a half mile from her flat. She texted him back that she’d see him there.She dithered over what to wear but finally decided this wasn’t a real date, it was dinner with a friend.If she was at home going out to eat with friends, she’d be in jeans and trainers with her leather jacket, so that’s what she picked out to wear. When she arrived at the restaurant, she was relieved to see that she had chosen wisely.Strike himself was in khaki slacks and a button down shirt with a sweater, leaning against the wall of the restaurant, waiting for her.He looked tired but he smiled when he saw her.

“Welcome back,” Robin said.“Did you have a good flight?”

“It was all right.I’m glad to be back in London, though.”He stretched.“I’ll sleeplike a rock tonight.Let’s go get a good steak, ok?”

Their waitress brought their meal right away.Both had ordered steaks and chips with draft beers, but Robin’s steak was half the size of Cormoran’s.They ate without talking much, Robin realizing just how tired Cormoran was after only a few minutes talking to him.He finished his steak, sighed and sat back, closing his eyes.After a few minutes he opened them again and realized all Robin’s untouched chips were piled on his plate. He gave her a big smile and ate them all.

He paid the bill and they walked out of the restaurant.Robin asked Strike if he wanted coffee or if he’d rather just go home to bed.She explained her flat was close by if he would like her to make him a pot or she could call him a cab to get him home.He said coffee sounded good.They walked down the sidewalk together, Strike telling her he’d eaten a good meal in St. Gallen at a French restaurant.It was a leisurely stroll back to Robin’s flat with fewer people out now that it was a little early for bar hopping and a little late for dinner out.Robin pulled out her keys and opened the door for Cormoran, turning on the lights and headed into the kitchen to start coffee.She got the pot going and set milk and mugs on the kitchen table, then realized she hadn’t heard Cormoran say anything since she’d told him to make himself at home.She turned around and saw him sitting on her couch, staring at the copy of Tatler she’d forgotten was laying on the coffee table. 

Robin was stricken with guilt.She walked to the couch where she sat down next to him and put her hand on his wrist.He turned his face to her, expressionless but with a stricken look in his eyes.“I’m sorry, Cormoran. I forgot that was there.Want some brandy in your coffee?”He nodded. 

Robin headed back to the kitchen, pouring the coffees and then getting a little bottle of brandy out of the top cupboard.She’d bought it meaning to make a Christmas cake last fall but she’d forgotten she had it until it was too close to the holiday to soak any fruit cake with brandy.She poured a healthy slug into his coffee mug and took it to Strike who was reading the article.He took it from her with thanks.Robin sat next to him, drinking her coffee and wondering what she could do for him.It must be terrible to come home so tired from handling the loose ends after a death in the family to find confirmation that your suspicions of cheating were not only true, but spread out in a magazine for anyone to read.

The magazine slid out of his lap onto the floor.Cormoran shut his eyes instead of reaching for it.Robin took his empty mug from his hand, picked up the magazine and took both into the kitchen.She put the magazine into the trash bin and refilled his coffee mug with coffee and brandy and brought it back to Strike who was now sitting with his eyes closed.Sitting next to him on the couch, Robin touched Strike’s hand gently.He opened his eyes and tried to smile.“Here, drink this.I’ll call you a cab.”

Strike shook his head.“I have a car.I’ll call.”He pulled out his phone and texted something.He laid his phone on her coffee table and it soon buzzed with a responding text.“There in 10.”

Strike closed his eyes again and drank the coffee down.“Another?” he asked.Robin was wondering if it was wise to have a third brandy but she did as he asked, being a little more conservative with the liquor and adding more coffee.She sat quietly, still drinking her original coffee, when the door buzzer went off, startling her.She stood, then realized it must be Strike’s ride.She opened the door to a short, muscular man with a red beard and tattoos on his wrists and knuckles.He looked her over, then looked past her at Strike. “What’s this, then?” he said, coming into the room and looking at Strike with a frown.

“Charlotte’s engaged to Jago Ross,” Strike told the man with the beard.He arched one eyebrow, then looked at Strike’s empty coffee mug and then at the brandy bottle sitting on the kitchen counter.“Bitch moved fast.Didn’t you just dump her last week?”Strike nodded. 

The man took Strike’s mug from him and sniffed it.He looked over at Robin.“Good plan but we need something stronger.I’ll be right back.”He walked out of the flat, closing the door behind him.Robin was nonplused and looked at Strike who had his eyes closed again.“That’s Shanker,” he said without opening his eyes.Robin wondered whether to make another pot of coffee but decided to wait and see if Shanker returned.He did very shortly, a paper bag in one tattooed hand. 

“Got glasses?” he asked Robin as he pulled a bottle of fine malt whiskey out of the bag and twisted it open.Robin found glasses and Shanker poured two stiff drinks.He gave one glass to Strike who stared at it as if unsure what to do with it.Shanker looked at Robin.“Want one?” 

“No, thanks.I’m Robin,” she added.Shanker sipped his whiskey, then said, “Robin, ok. Shanker. I’m going to the car for a minute.Be right back.”When he returned, he had an overnight case in his hand.He dumped it on the floor by the front door, then picked up his abandoned glass of liquor and drank some more.By now Strike had finished his whiskey so Shanker poured him another. 

Robin decided to clean up the coffee pot and mugs, just to have something to do.As she washed, she kept an eye on Strike and Shanker.They didn’t speak.Shanker sipped his drink very slowly without any apparently effect, sitting on the couch next to Strike.Strike sat eyes closed, motionless.Shanker looked over at Robin, then stood up and came into the kitchen.“He’s dead tired from that trip to his dad’s place in Switzerland.With the brandy you got into him and my whiskey he’s going to pass out soon.Can he sleep on your couch tonight?”

“Course,” Robin said.I’ll get pillows and a blanket.”

“I brought in his suitcase so he has clothes and such in the morning.Once he’s up and functioning, text me, yeah?”Shanker wrote a number on the pad on the kitchen counter.“I’ll get him home.”

Robin fetched pillows and a blanket from her bedroom.She could hear Shanker and Strike talking, Shanker cajoling while Strike protested.She came out to see Shanker steering Strike toward her bathroom.While they were busy, she made a bed up on the couch and turned the lights down low.She put the whiskey bottle away in the kitchen, rinsed out the two empty glasses and put those in the dishwasher for later.She got a bottle of water out of the fridge and found her bottle of paracetamol. These she put on the coffee table within easy reach of the couch if one was lying down.She fetched the little trash container from her bedroom and put it next to the coffee table, within reach. 

Shanker by then was steering a wavering Strike toward the couch.She saw him swiftly survey her arrangements.He nodded at Robin as they passed her and told her, “Best if you head off to bed now.I’ll get him settled and lock up when I leave.”Robin thought this was sensible so she said goodnight to both men, went into her bedroom and closed her door. She was in bed asleep fairly soon, lulled by the gentle cadence of the men talking in the other room.


	4. Hangover Cure

Robin woke up at her normal Sunday morning time, stretched, and remembered Strike asleep on her couch.At least she hoped he was still there.She got up, pulled on a robe, and carefully opened the bedroom door.There he was, laying on her couch, bare except for his boxers as he’d thrown off the blanket in the night.She realized with a shock that he’d lost the lower part of one leg. A prothesis was leaning against the couch.That accounted for the stiffness in his leg she’d seen.

He was a big man, with heavily muscled arms, chest and shoulders that he’d gained through hard labor and a slightly rounded stomach that showed he wasn’t as physically active now.The difference between Matt and this man was astounding.The “pretty boy” sneering nickname her brothers had given Matt when they first started dating made perfect sense now.This was a man, not a pale imitation of one which Matt had turned out to be.Robin’s inexperience with men meant she’d never realized what a man should be.Robin silently tiptoed across the floor, carefully replaced the blanket over Strike, and returned to her bedroom, closing her door.

She dressed, made her bed, and mentally reviewed the contents of her refrigerator.She had butter, bread, eggs and milk.She didn’t have bacon or potatoes.There was plenty of coffee and she had tea bags from home but she only had one tomato.She slipped into the bathroom and as silently as possible cleaned up and put her hair in a pony tail.Out in the living room she walked past the sleeping Strike, and grabbed her purse.The note with Shanker’s phone number was laying on the kitchen counter.She entered it into her phone, added the items she needed from the store to the sheet under Shanker’s number, tore it off and stuck it into her pocket.She stopped at the door and looked back at the sleeping Strike.He had black shadows under his eyes but he’d had those when he met her at the restaurant last night.Otherwise, he looked boyish in his sleep, the stern look he habitually wore put away now.She thought he would sleep for quite a while still, so without leaving him any note, she left him in the flat, locking the door behind her.

While waiting to check out at Waitrose, Robin texted Shanker. “Still asleep.Shopping for breakfast.Come eat at 11?”She almost immediately got a thumbs up icon in return.Shanker must be up and functioning.He’d had only one whiskey as far as she knew last night, so she supposed he would be more alert than Strike.Robin splurged on two boxes of biscuits.She picked her brothers’ favorites since she had no idea what Strike or Shanker liked.She walked back to her flat with her purchases, stopping only to look at the blooming lilac in a garden down the street.It smelled heavenly. 

Back at the flat, she put everything away as quietly as possible, then went back to her bedroom.She plugged her phone into its charger and sat down in her bed with her laptop and earphones, checking the news and then watching a show she’d missed when out to dinner with Strike.She was comfortable here in her little home but it was nice to be expecting company for breakfast later.She’d missed human interaction while living alone in London.Idly, she looked through her photos on her phone.There were still plenty of photos of Matt, smiling for the camera, his hair and teeth perfect.She wondered how she’d missed the signs of his narcissism.But then she’d thought Strike’s lady friend rude and entitled after one brief glimpse of her.She supposed Strike hadn’t seen that side of her, just as Robin had not seen Matt’s ugly side. A beautiful package could hide a lot.Robin sighed and turned to the photos of her parents, brothers, dog and the farm and found comfort looking at the familiar signs of home.She didn’t want to go back there to live now, labeled as a failure after Matthew had so publicly shamed her by cheating, but eventually she might.It was a good place to raise a family if you found the right partner.She wondered where Strike had grown up.Shanker’s voice was Cockney but Strike’s slight accent wasn’t London.

She did what she should have done when she first met Strike—she did a search on his name.She discovered he was the product of a fleeting liaison between a famous rock star and a famous groupie.The rock star had gone on to other partners and marriages and even more fame and riches.The groupie (who had been exceptionally stylish judging from the photos) had gone on to drink and drugs and sleazy men until she’d died or been murdered in a squat.Robin wondered what it was like to grow up like that.There was plenty about his father’s death of cancer last fall but nothing about his estate or Strike being the heir.Perhaps he was only the executor.He seemed a capable man to Robin but she imagined he’d grown up fast with the mother he’d had. 

She did a search on Charlotte Ross, soon to be the Countess of Croy.She was just as famous online as Strike’s family.She was all over the society pages, looking glamorous and beautiful everywhere.Robin thought she saw hints of wild parties and perhaps a touch of madness in the backgrounds of the stories.Her soon-to-be husband was handsome in a sleek, insufferable way.He reminded her of Matt, just an older, richer, titled version.Apparently he was divorced and there were hints of alcoholism in the blurbs about his breakup with his former wife.He had two little girls.Robin grimaced.At least she’d discovered Matt’s real self before she’d married him and had kids.

There was a thump from the other room, startling Robin.She closed down her computer, set it aside, and got up to listen at the door.There were definitely sounds of movement.She looked at her watch which read 10:30.Well, she’d give Strike the full thirty minutes until her breakfast should go on the stove.She sat back on her bed with a book.

She only had to wait half that time before there came a knock on her bedroom door.Robin called, “Come in.” A sheepish and pale Strike appeared.

“Sorry,” he said. 

“No, my fault for springing that on you.And Shanker’s for the whiskey.”She grinned at him.“By the way, I’m making a full English and invited Shanker for 11.Guess I’d better get started.”Strike looked startled. 

“Shanker is coming?”Robin nodded.“He must like you.”

“No, I said the magic words—free food.”Strike grinned at her. 

“If you want a shower there are clean towels in the bathroom.Shanker brought your bag last night.”She nodded toward his overnight bag, now standing next to the couch where the blanket was neatly folded on top of the pillows.“Do you want coffee or tea with breakfast?”

Strike requested tea and as she started getting pans and plates out, he took his bag into the bathroom and closed the door.Robin had everything started, Strke’s blanket and pillows and her bedroom bin put away, and the silverware laid on her tiny table when there was a knock at the door.It was eleven on the nose.She went over and opened it to find Shanker, just as disreputable as last night, and in the same clothes, smiling at her.He had a small bouquet of roses in his hand which he solemnly gave her.Robin smiled at the gesture, and put them in water, then put them on the kitchen counter so she could look at them while she cooked.

At this point Strike came out of the bathroom, clean and tidy but still pale.He looked better, she thought, and once she got food in him, he should be better still.Robin handed Shanker mugs of tea which he shared with Strike.They sat at her kitchen table, Shanker good-naturedly ribbing Strike about his inability to hold his liquor.“At least you ended up with here with breakfast on offer.Her ladyship wouldn’t give me the time of day.I like this one much better.Better snap her up quick before I do.” Strike attempted to frown Shanker down, something that Robin could have told him wouldn’t work.She broke up the pending argument by putting full plates in front of each of them.With her own plate and tea mug in hand, she joined them at the table. 

“Thanks again for the flowers, Shanker.They smell fantastic.”

“Ta,” he toasted her with his tea mug.“Any more of this in the pot?”

“Sure,” Robin said.“Help yourself.”Shanker did, grabbing the last two pieces of bacon from the pan when he did so.Robin noticed he shared them with Strike.Their relationship reminded her of her relationship with her brothers.Take the piss out of them at every opportunity but take good care of them as well, and heaven help those who went up against any of them.They would have all the Ellacotts to deal with.She’d had to be quite forceful that her brothers were not to “beat the crap out of that little shit” when she’d broken off with Matt.

It didn’t take long for Strike and Shanker to demolish breakfast.Robin had been pretty hungry herself but nothing eats like two hungry grown men.Strike looked better, less pale. Shanker looked like Shanker.If she had a treasure chest under her bed she’d bet Shanker would both know it and take it with him when he left.She poured Strike and herself the last of the tea.They all sat at the table, enjoying the last sips of the strong tea Robin brought from home. 

“We’d better go, Shanker,” Strike said at last.“Thank you for the meal, Robin.Can we help you wash up?”

“No, I prefer to do it myself.My kitchen isn’t big enough for you two anyway.”They all stood.Shanker picked up Strike’s overnight bag from where he’d left it by the couch and went to Robin’s front door, where he paused and told Robin, “Thanks.Text me if you need anything.”Then he vanished.

Strike looked incredulous.“Shanker gave you his number?”

“Yes,” Robin felt a little defensive. 

“He must really like you.”

“No, he was looking out for you.I just happened to be how he did it.”

Strike looked at her, then stepped a bit closer. “Look, I’m sorry about last night.I wasn’t the greatest dinner date and passing out on your couch wasn’t the slickest move I’ve ever made either.”

Robin smiled, “Well, I sprung your ex’s behavior on you.I didn’t mean to but it’s understandable you were upset.Don’t worry about how you reacted.When I realized Matt was cheating on me I cried for a week.At least you didn’t do that.” 

Strike stepped a bit closer, looking into her eyes, a little smile hovering around his lips.“No, I didn’t do that.Maybe you’ll go to dinner with me again so I can prove I’m not always such a tit?”

“I’d like that,” Robin whispered as she looked into his eyes.Strike leaned down and kissed her.Robin kissed back, her hands on his chest, not holding him, not pushing him away, just resting there, enjoying the solid feel of his muscles.He had both arms around her waist, pulling her up against him.He smelled of her soap, of a woodsy aftershave, of maleness.She didn’t have to stand on tiptoe to kiss him, all she had to do was slide her hands up his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him tightly to her. 

Shanker banged the door open and said, “Are you coming?!”Seeing them embracing he said, “Jesus Christ, why weren’t you doing that last night?Now we are due at the lawyers in less than an hour.Your timing sucks, Bunsen.Unless you want to make it the quickest boink in history —and that would be a shame—we have to go now.” 

Strike glared at Shanker.“Go away.”And Shanker did. 

Strike kissed Robin once more and then let her go.“I’ll call you tonight,” he said as he followed Shanker down the stairs.Robin went to her kitchen window and watched them leave.Shanker was mock boxing Strike all the way to a Mercedes while Strike ignored him.Together they climbed into the front seat and Shanker drove them away.Robin sighed happily, then started clearing dishes.Things were looked up in London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for allowing Shanker to take over and steer the story. He's irresistible when he runs wild.


End file.
